The Only Exception
by DZoe
Summary: Sookie moves to New York to start things over, deciding not to fall in love again. Then she bumps into a stranger. Will she keep her rule or risk it and make an exception?  These characters belong to Mrs. C Harris, please don't sue me I only have a cat


**Thanks to Seastarr08 and Pflogs72 for pre reading this story. ****You guys are amazing, muchas, muchas gracias**

I decided long ago not to share my life with anyone – especially not my feelings. After all the pain my heart endured from the break up with Bill, it was the only way I knew to protect myself from anything that would inflict more pain.

Bill and I had been together for a couple of years when out of the blue he told me he didn't love me the way I should be loved. He was giving me my "freedom" to find someone who loved and appreciated me like I deserved. Later, I learned that Bill was marrying a waitress named Arlene, a chick with inferno red hair whom he met at Merlotte's. Turns out, he slept with Arlene and got her pregnant while we were dating. I knew he wasn't happy with her, but that didn't make me feel any better.

He had treated me like a gentleman when we were together (aside from cheating on me), and had taken me out to nice places to eat or for a glass of wine. We would talk for hours. I guess I was naïve and got swept up in it all, but it finally hit me that he never told me he loved me. I suppose I thought it was just too soon for those important words. What a fool I was.

Something good did come from all that heartache though; it was the push I needed to move from Louisiana to New York to accept a full scholarship at the New York Culinary Arts Institute. I was studying to become a chef - a pastry chef. I took the hardest classes and the weirdest schedule, anything to keep my mind off Bill. Thank God it worked. I gained a few pounds in the process, but nothing that a few morning jogs wouldn't fix.

Although my scholarship covered my classes, I needed to pay for my own room and board. My parents had not been millionaires, but they left my brother Jason and I enough money to get by, so I rented a small studio close to Central Park. It was expensive, but every time I felt like complaining I looked out the window and saw the park. It was worth the sacrifice.

I found a part-time job at Patisserie Herveaux. The owner's son, Alcide, was hot, but he wasn't all that interested in me. We went on a few dates, but decided we were much better as friends.

At work I was in charge of European pastries; my specialties were Black Forest cake and marzipan-filled croissants. I was in heaven. Alcide had a friend who owned a catering business. Every time John Quinn was short on desserts he called me. Between the two I was able to make enough money to cover my rent and other expenses.

One particular day stands out in my memory as if it were yesterday. I'd left earlier than usual on my way to work, so was walking at a leisurely pace to the train station. I was lost in a Paramore song on my iPod, _The Only Exception_, when I felt somebody staring at me intently. I glanced up to meet the stranger's stare and felt like I was looking at a male version of myself in a mirror. His blond hair was the same shade as mine. His eyes, also blue like mine, had an intensity I had never before seen. I was a bit awe struck, so I nervously plastered a big smile on my face, and to my surprise, he smiled back. His smile was genuine though, not fake or plastered on like mine.

I continued on my way, but that brief exchange was all it took. The next days were weird for me; I was late for work and for class. I found myself daydreaming about the handsome stranger, who frequently occupied my thoughts, and soon seemed to have taken up a permanent residence in my mind.

After two weeks of debating whether to try to find him again or let him go, I decided to go for it ('Nothing ventured, nothing gained – right?) For days I took the train at the exact time and from the same station without any luck. After a week I was ready to give up, thinking I was a fool for wasting my time to look for someone I didn't even know. Besides, I had a lot of work to do at the shop and school. Maybe he was psycho, or married. Perhaps he was gay and had just looked at me because he was considering a sex change and needed a prototype. All those ideas and more came to mind.

I took the train once more, and just before boarding, I bumped into what felt like a wall. My books fell to the platform along with my iPod. I spun on my heel and was on the verge of flushing my Southern charms down the toilet and giving the "wall" a piece of my mind, but instead I was rendered speechless. It was him, and he was looking down on me with his intense blue eyes.

"Are you okay?" He kneeled down and touched my shoulder. I swear I almost fainted.

"Um, yes. Yes, I'm fine," I answered. _If you don't move your hand I may slip into a coma and you'll have to administer CPR. Although mouth-to-mouth resuscitation the same day I bumped into you doesn't sound so bad, _I thought.

"Here, let me help you." He gathered my books and iPod and handed them back to me. "You were kind of out of it. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I was uh…" I trailed off thinking that God must love me a lot, because I'd nearly given up my search when I bumped into him. "I was a tad bit out of it. Thanks for picking my things up for me."

He gave me an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I was kind of daydreaming myself."

I shrugged. "Tripping over somebody and dropping your things? It happens."

"If I may say so, you looked kind of sad too. You sure you're okay?"

"To tell you the truth, I was a little sad. It's nothing that I can't manage." I thought how ironic it was that my sadness was caused by the fact that I hadn't seen him for three weeks, and that I had nearly given up hope.

"May I interest you in a cup of coffee? That is, if you are not in a rush."

A little voice popped into my head to remind me of my "don't share your life or feelings rule". I was listening to that little voice and was seconds away from running back to my solitude, but a louder voice inside me told me that this guy, well man, was different.

He seemed to notice my internal struggle. "Hey, it's just a cup of coffee. It is pretty cold today - a good day for a hot cup of coffee, don't you think? My name is Eric, by the way."

"I'm Sookie."

"So, Sookie…care to join me for a cup of coffee? I know a place that makes a mean chocolate cake and the croissants are to die for. My sister always brings them to me as a peace offering. It's not too far from here. If you'd prefer, we can just get the coffee and be on our way. At the very least it will warm us up and wake us up enough so we won't trip again."

I looked into his eyes - blue as the ocean, tender like a newborn, but intense like a lion on the prowl – and knew that I would go.

He continued, "I promise I won't spill any coffee or bump into you again. Scout's Honor." He gave me a smile that was relaxed and secure.

"Okay, just coffee then," I smiled.

Off we went for coffee. To my surprise, Eric took me to EE, the pastry shop operated by John Quinn. The shop sold my Black Forest cake and marzipan-filled croissants. The croissants were Eric's favorite, I discovered that day. I swear, I had never tasted such delicious coffee, nor spent three hours talking over a cup.

I learned that Eric Northman was in his senior year at NYU studying literature. At thirty-two, he was six years older than me, and had started college in his late twenties. He lived with his sister, Pam, who was also a student. Their family had moved from Sweden years ago, when his dad took a job with a New York-based architectural firm. His mom had been a curator at the Guggenheim and his dad was active in the "green" architecture movement, but in recent years they'd moved back to Sweden. Eric and Pam decided to stay and study. Eric had married and divorced his long-time girlfriend from home -Thalia just hadn't liked America and returned to Europe as well. Lucky me.

In turn, I told him everything about me: that I was orphaned at seven when my parents died in a car accident; about my beloved older brother; and how our Gran has raised us to take care of each other. Eventually, I also shared my history with Bill. Eric listened to my story without ever taking his eyes off me. Just when I was wondering if I would ever see him again, he asked me for my phone number.

That day began a regular pattern. We met once or twice a week for coffee, either at EE or Patisserie Herveaux. I would tell him about my day at the Institute, and he would read me the poetry that was discussed in class. His favorite was Beethoven's _Immortal Beloved_ letters. "Ever thine, ever mine, ever ours," he would tell me. That was before he told me he loved me.

Eventually he did say those three important words to me. He didn't tell me he loved me everyday, but he showed me at every chance. When I got sick - puking my guts out sick - he took care of me. When I failed at one of the recipes I was assigned to deconstruct and improve or make different, he bought the needed ingredients, and played guinea pig to taste the results of my experimenting. When I least expected, he would send me flowers - calla lilies, lilacs or tulips. I sometimes wonder if he was a telepath; I hated roses, yet without ever mentioning that to him, he never ever got me a single one. Before long, I was deep and madly in love with him.

When my Gran got sick, he bought plane tickets and went with me to visit her without my even asking. He stayed with her in the hospital while I attempted to make the arrangements for the funeral. Her cardiologist, Dr. Ludwig, a very small woman with the authority of a 6' 7" man-of-war, told me Gran didn't have much time. When he realized it was too much for me to handle, he took over making the arrangements. When Gran passed, Eric was there for me and also for Jason, who wasn't handling Gran's death too well.

The weekend after Valentine's Day was bitter cold. Eric had several papers to turn in, and I was exhausted from all the chocolate and pastries I'd prepared for the lover's day baskets. We managed to celebrate in our own way though with pizza and a movie. We fell asleep in each other arms; I hadn't slept that well in a million years.

One chilly Wednesday I was looking out the window when Eric's strong arms hugged me from behind. He smelled my hair as he always did and held me tight. He kissed the top of my head.

"I'll be the happiest man in the universe if I can be like this forever with you. Not a few times a week, but every day. You think we can arrange that?"

I swear, if I were a candle, I would have melted in a jiffy. I turned around to look him in the face. I'd never seen him like that; he looked like a kid on a Christmas day. He took my hand, kissed it, and gave me a small piece of my Black Forest cake. I was confused until I noticed an extra ingredient that wasn't a part of the original recipe, a beautiful platinum ring with a heart-shaped diamond. I was speechless. He just smiled and put the ring on my finger. It was a perfect fit. Right there I knew, he was an exception worth making.

We planned the wedding in just three months. Jason gave me away, and my best friend, Tara, was my maid of honor. Pam and my friend, Claudine, were my bridesmaids. They were beautiful in dresses of purple and lilac – our wedding colors. Lafayette was the best man. He was Eric's friend in college and always got him the class material when he was absent. I could have killed Lafayette for having makeup that was way better than mine, but he did do my face better than any famous makeup artist would have possibly done.

The wedding was a small one. Eric's parents came along with a few other friends. We married just before dusk on the last Wednesday in May in Central Park. It was the perfect day to be married surrounded by nature.

I had always been one to live strictly by my rules, no exceptions allowed. My plan was to finish my degree and be on my way. I was playing it safe, never allowing myself to fall for anyone. I was once told, "never say never".

Of course, that was then - before I ran into the stranger in the train station. Eric turned out to be the love of my life, the one I opened up my heart to. He proved to be the best exception I ever made.

**Eric's POV**

It was not in my plan to fall in love. My plan was to finish college and move back to Stockholm where I would work as a professor. I was on the healing path after my divorce. Plus, I didn't think I'd ever love anybody as much as I'd loved Thalia. But then I saw the blonde-haired blue-eyed stranger and found myself intrigued.

I first saw her at Patisserie Herveaux, where I had the best croissant I'd ever tasted. She was concentrating on carefully placing a cake in the display case. I wondered why anyone would waste time putting it so neatly on display when it would surely be cut in pieces and eaten soon. But she was careful not to ruin the icing. She was so absorbed in her world she didn't notice anything or anyone, including me. I watched her tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear before she spun on her heel and returned to the kitchen. I was in awe; it seemed like she was dancing in the air.

Then I saw her at the train station. I was running late for class, but when I noticed her I let the train go so I could see a bit more of her. Her eyes were blue like the sky on a summer day, and her hair was as blond as mine. She looked sad. When our eyes met she tried to smile at me, so I did the same. She still looked sad.

Then I got sick. My gall bladder announced that it was alive and kicking. I spent my days in bed daydreaming about her, wanting to see her real smile. Pam took care of me though my ordeal, but when I confided in her about the blonde stranger she bugged me to no end.

"I've never had this kind of ammunition before. I'm not going to waste it, so deal with it. I'm the nurse in charge here. You are like a daydreaming teenager."

As soon as the doctor gave me a clean bill of health, I went right to the train station to try to find the blonde woman. But I could only do so much since I had already missed two weeks of class and was behind in my coursework.

It was a cold day, the kind that takes you by surprise. I was late for an appointment with one of my professors, and in my rush to make the train, wasn't watching where I was going. I bumped into somebody, causing the person to spill their books and iPod on the platform. It wasn't until the stranger looked up at me that I realized who it was. The blue-eyed blonde I hadn't been able to stop thinking about was before me - all I could think was _I found you._

Out of the blue I asked her for a cup of coffee, totally ignoring the fact that I had an appointment. Fortunately, Professor Edgington was a romance junkie, and had always told me the right woman was certain to come my way. I had no problems rescheduling once I'd explained the situation to him.

To my surprise she agreed to go for coffee. Even better, she told me about her life, her work, and how much she enjoys to bake. I have never enjoyed a cup of coffee so much. We ended up talking like two old friends who haven't seen each other in a long time. It felt like I was home after spending a long time away. I was under Sookie Stackhouse's spell and I didn't wanted to break it. Her real smile was as beautiful as I imagined. It lit up her face and it lit up my life. Before our coffee date was over I asked for her number; I had to see her again.

Meeting up with Sookie became the highlight of my week. We would go out, eat, or simply walk through the park. Spending time with her was the best thing, and after just three months I knew that I loved her. I didn't hesitate in letting her know, and when I did, tears filled her eyes and warmed me inside. I knew I couldn't let her go.

After her Gran died, I knew it was time to ask her to marry me. Alcide and Claudine were my accomplices; Alcide helped me to get the perfect piece of Sookie's Black Forest cake to hide the ring, and Claudine did some fibbing to get Sookie's ring size. I had the same ring my Grandfather gave my Grandmother; the same one my Father had given to my Mother. It was my turn to give the ring to the woman I loved, and I couldn't have be happier.

After my adventure having her ring sized and getting the right piece of cake, I was ready to go for it. I found Sookie looking out the window at the snow swirling in Central Park. She was holding a steaming mug of coffee, so I had to be careful when approaching her so as not to startle her.

Paulo Coelho wrote, "When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it." That day was no exception. When I slid my arms around her waist, she put the mug down. I held her for some time, taking in the scent of her hair and committing the moment to memory.

"I'll be the happiest man in the universe if I can be like this forever with you. Not a few times a week, but every day. You think we can arrange that?"

It felt like the earth stood still for a second. She turned to look me in the eye, but before she said anything I kissed her hand and gave her the little cake. Her eyes were as big as two plates from an Italian restaurant; she was speechless. I couldn't wait any longer so I took the ring and slid it on her finger. Finally I got the reaction I was looking for - and of course she said yes.

Three months later we were saying "I do" in front of a small crowd in Central Park. Sookie was as beautiful as I'd ever seen her. My life had come full circle; I felt complete. She was the exception to my rule.


End file.
